


In a Name

by dilaudiddreams



Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: (a very little bit), :), Daddy Kink, Domestic Fluff, Healthy Relationships, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, M/M, Protective Derek, Secret Relationship, Smut, light Violence, scrapes and bruises, so I won't lose it, sorry I keep showing up in this tag over and over I want to get my tumblr stuff archived, totally canon-typical though nothing serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:41:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24767908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dilaudiddreams/pseuds/dilaudiddreams
Summary: "When they’re safe and assured and away from their boss and the knot of tension at the back of Derek’s neck has relaxed somewhat, Spencer is his.His to hold and whisper to and comfort.His pretty boy."A look at a relationship through nicknames.
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789585
Comments: 11
Kudos: 425





	In a Name

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an ask someone sent to my NSFW blog: 
> 
> "Hey, another concept. Morgan has a million names for Reid, pretty boy, baby, etc. And he uses them all throughout sex and it's only when he's at the very climax when they're all gone and hes just breathing out Spencer's name"
> 
> Kind of cheating because this isn't a prompt, but I wrote it anyway. Hope you like! LOVE, even! :)))

  1. _Reid._



When their private life is nonexistent, and they’ve got nothing to do with each other outside of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, he’s just Reid. 

When he sits unrestfully (squatting on his heels—what on Earth is that?) at his desk chair and bites his lip as he looks inquisitively through files at a million miles an hour, he’s just Reid. Only Reid could do these things--hold himself so haphazardly, excel so extremely, and look so precious all simultaneously.

He’s Reid when he puts the last few pieces of a case together and it all falls into place exactly the way they need it. 

He’s Reid when he saves the day again.

He’s Reid when he dumps five tablespoons of sugar into a single cup of burnt coffee in the BAU break room, but somehow still scrunches up his nose in distaste at the remaining traces of bitterness as JJ gives her daily briefing. (He’s Reid as Derek watches his adorable, disapproving nose-scrunch instead of focusing on the no doubt _very_ important case at hand.)

He’s Reid when he strips his beautiful, lithe body bare of his (necessary, Jesus fuck) protections to confront an unstable man with a deadly weapon. 

He’s Reid when he’s held down and hit repeatedly in his pretty, delicate face by a man twice his size and has no means to de-escalate the situation.

He’s Reid when he investigates the body of a brutally murdered woman who resembles his mother so closely that he starts to cry and needs to take a moment away. 

He’s Reid when Derek wants nothing more than to follow him as he leaves the scene; to gather him in his arms and keep him safe from the brutal cruelty of the world.

At work, when he’s Reid, Derek wants so desperately to hold him, shield him, kiss the bruises blossoming on his face, run his fingers through his mop of curls, brush his tears away—

But at work, when he’s just Reid, 

all he is to Derek is _Reid,_

and that sort of thing is forbidden.

_2\. Pretty Boy._

At home, and sometimes with their friends, he calls him _pretty boy_. 

When they’re safe and assured and away from their boss and the knot of tension at the back of Derek’s neck has relaxed somewhat, Spencer is his. 

His to hold and whisper to and comfort.

_His pretty boy._

When the sun comes up and they’re alone amongst the soft, gentle embrace of their bed, Spencer bats his big, gorgeous brown eyes open and gives Derek that sleepy little smile he would go to the ends of the earth for. Then, he’s his pretty boy. 

_Good morning, pretty boy. I love you._

When Spencer wraps his arms around Derek’s waist from behind as he cooks dinner, he can feel his lovely warmth drape over him and slowly ease his ever-present worry of something wicked lurking. Then, he’s his pretty boy. 

When Spencer lies on his back in bed after a rough day in the field, and Derek kisses the bruises littering his chest and his tummy and whispers into his neck the promises of safety and comfort he’d desperately wished to give him at work, then, he’s his pretty boy. 

When there’s nothing in the world but the two of them—no criminals, no Hotch, no guns, no blood, just the afternoon thunderstorm outside their window and the four walls around them—and Spencer is finally safely falling asleep in Derek’s arms where he belongs, everything is at last right with the world.

Then, he’s _pretty boy_.

3\. _Baby Boy._

This one is just for the two of them. 

It doesn’t leave their home. 

Late at night, when they’re cuddled together on the couch and Spencer looks at Derek with pleading eyes and wet, pouty lips and whispers

_Take me to bed?_

—that’s his baby boy. 

This is the version of his love that only he gets to see.

His baby boy takes anything Derek gives him, and he takes it eagerly.

He gets on his knees, sticks out his tongue, and pleads for cock in his mouth like he’s starving for it. He spreads his legs with a single, gentle tap to the knee, making himself available like some sort of toy (which, Derek thinks to himself, he almost is.). He lies across Derek’s lap and takes his spankings sweetly, never complaining, always coming up from his punishments hard and leaking against his belly (is it really a punishment if he likes it? Derek can’t bring himself to care.) 

Derek slaps his baby across the face (never too hard—he would never actually _hurt_ his little angel, of course) and roughly grabs his chin. 

Spencer looks up at him with pure adoration, pupils blown wide, drooling like a puppy.

_You like that? You my little painslut?_

_Yes._

He slaps him again. _Yes...?_

_Mmh. Yes, daddy._

That’s his baby boy. His sweet, slutty obedient baby, for him (and only him) to do what he pleases with. 

4\. _Spencer._

It’s his name. 

His real name. 

Just after he was born, when Diana held him in her arms for the first time and looked into his intelligent eyes, _Spencer_ was what she saw.

And, although it’s his name, and it’s a perfectly good name, Derek reserves it for special occasions. 

_You need help, Spencer_ , he whispers, running a thumb over the track marks littering his inner arm.

 _Don’t you ever do that again, Spencer,_ he snaps when his love miraculously emerges unscathed from a hostage situation wherein he chose to set down his weapon. 

_Can I talk to you a minute, Spencer?_ He asks after the third consecutive night of dreams about Carl. 

_Spencer, when was the last time you ate?_

_You can talk to me about anything, Spencer._

_Just hold on, Spencer. Stay with me, baby._

_I’m worried, Spencer._

Somehow, despite being his legal first name, it’s become so intimate, so _special_ within the context of their relationship that Derek feels vulnerable using it. 

So naturally, when they’re tangled up together and Spencer is tight around him, raking his nails down his back and whining soft, desperate pleas in his ear, and he can feel ecstasy bubbling up inside him to the point that he’s beyond return, it falls from his mouth like a mantra—

_Holy shit, Spencer, Jesus Christ, Spencer, Spencer you’re so good, fuck, fuck, fuck, Spencer—_

_I love you, Spencer._

Spencer, of course, is beyond words, but he doesn’t have to say it back for Derek to understand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I love hearing feedback and thoughts!!! Love you!!!!!!


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